The Island of Misfit Toys
by NinthFeather
Summary: A Gundam 00 oneshot collection. Next up: "The coolness of night air shocked him, waking him from the hazy half-sleep of drifting through bad memories."
1. Island of Misfit Toys

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Title: The Island of Misfit Toys

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Neil Dylandy, Setsuna F. Seiei, Tieria Erde, Allelujah Haptism  
Summary: Neil Dylandy sees the beauty in broken things.  
WARNINGS: Angst and spoilers for a good bit of the first season.  
Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – This drabble is set somewhere near the end of the first season. Thank you to StormyMonday for beta-reading! (By the way, if you were hoping this was an update of Recurring Nightmare with Popcorn, don't worry. The new chapter will be up by the 10th of June.)

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When Neil Dylandy joined Celestial Being, he hadn't realized that he was, in a sense, marooning himself on the spacefaring version of the Island of Misfit Toys.

Sure, he'd expected his new co-workers to have some issues. After all, pretty much the only reason anyone would join Celestial Being was that they'd been hurt, somehow, by war. But the truth far exceeded his expectations.

There was a fine line between "damaged" and "broken" and his new comrades, especially his fellow Meisters, made their homes on it. They were not just hurt, he realized, they were seconds from falling apart.

This realization became a conviction as he watched them and worked with them. He could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, because he was the only one who had noticed just how fragile the other Meisters were. And thus the only one truly looking out for them.

Setsuna was always a few reminders of his past away from a total emotional shutdown. Tieria was obsessive and irritable about Celestial Being's plans because he didn't have anything else, and hid his insecurity by acting superior. And Allelujah-well, in some ways he was the worst off, because he seemed so normal on the outside that no one noticed the constant battles raging in his mind.

Neil tried-never let it be said that he didn't. He tried everything he could to bring them closer together, to cheer them up, to give them strength. But it never quite seemed to be enough. No matter what he tried, he couldn't fix them.

It made sense, after all. He was a sniper, not a counselor. He destroyed, he didn't build. Sometimes, he didn't understand why he tried at all.

But he couldn't help it, because below Setsuna's hardened exterior, there was an exceptionally good, selfless kid. Without his icy façade, Tieria was genuinely intelligent and surprisingly gentle. And Allelujah had untapped depths of kindness and compassion that he hid from the world, lest someone get close enough to him to also encounter Hallelujah. He could see the beauty in the broken toys, and he wanted to fix them up so that everyone else could see the same things he saw.

And besides, he knew he was just as broken as they were, only better at hiding it, better at coping. But he had maturity and experience that they didn't have, and that they might never gain, depending on how well their battle went.

He didn't want to think about that possibility, though. He didn't mind the idea of dying himself, but the thought of any of the others dying now both terrified and saddened him. If Setsuna never got to do anything other than fight, if Tieria never had a chance to let anyone in, if Allelujah never lived long enough for time to face the guilt Neil knew he felt every time he participated in an armed intervention…the world would never know what it lost. It would never even mourn them. They were the wreckage of humanity's mistakes, dismissed by a world that wanted to forget that such people existed.

If they hadn't been asked to shoulder the burdens they'd been given, what might they have become? He could imagine Allelujah as a teacher at an elementary school, letting the kids call him Mr. H. because they couldn't prounounce Haptism. Tieria would have made an excellent IT expert or computer programmer. Neil could picture him muttering insults at some computer novice while he fixed their hard drive. Setsuna…well, he hated to admit it, but he couldn't really picture Setsuna in a normal civilian job. Maybe he could have been a police officer or a security guard, though. Maybe he would have smiled more. Maybe they all would have smiled more.

If he needed a reason to hate the world, besides the death of his family, then these three were it. A world that couldn't even recognize how wonderful the other members of his little misfit family were didn't deserve to exist.

But maybe, someday, it would. That, as much as peace, was what he was fighting for.

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	2. keep them in your pocket

Title: _gather all your tears, keep 'em in your pocket_

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: PG

Characters: Feldt Grace  
Summary: Feldt Grace comes into her inheritance.

WARNINGS: Angst and spoilers for Feldt's backstory, the end of the first season and the beginning of the second.  
Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – This isn't a songfic, exactly, but the title is taken from The Band Perry's "If I Die Young," and that song was a large part of my inspiration for this fic, especially the line used in the title. Thanks to StormyMonday for beta-reading!

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~_gather all your tears, keep 'em in your pocket~_

In stories, the orphaned heroine often carries around a photograph or constantly wears a locket because "it's all she has left of her parents."

All Feldt Grace had left of her parents was Celestial Being, so she wrapped it up in quiet promises and the last remnants of her heart and put it in her pocket.

An armed organization isn't like a locket or a photograph. It's a lot heavier and much trickier to hold onto. Taking care of it requires more than being careful not to bend it, or making sure to polish it every few years. Feldt learned all of these things as time passed, but still she held on to her one-and-only inheritance.

But she couldn't hold on to it forever, because there's one more thing that makes an armed organization different from lockets and photographs. Armed organizations are made up of people, and people change, and people leave.

Celestial Being was no exception. Some of the people changed quickly, others slowly, a few not at all. Some of the people left by accident, others on purpose. Some died, some gave up, some wandered away. Some came back. Some didn't.

Even Feldt changed. She changed from a quiet, shy, mousy girl to a strong, reliable young woman. She loved and lost. Her best friend died. But she remained. Not unchanged, but certainly unmoving. She stood by Celestial Being, without fail.

Not because it was all that she had left of her parents. The Celestial Being they had left her was gone, lost somewhere between the appearance of the Gundam Thrones and Lockon's death. What was left was a new Celestial Being, one that Feldt and her comrades had rebuilt from the fragments of the old with little more than determination. This Celestial Being wasn't her parents'. It was hers.

Feldt doesn't carry anything around in her pocket anymore. She has what she needs, in her mind and her heart; memories and ambitions, knowledge and emotion, and, above everything, the other things her parents left her, the ones she didn't even realize that she had until her first inheritance, Celestial Being, was falling to pieces around her.

Feldt Grace's parents gave her dedication and persistence and loyalty, so she carries them around in all of her actions for the whole world to see.


	3. Kinue

Title: Kinue

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Kinue Crossroad  
Summary: This is what you didn't know about Kinue Crossroad.

WARNINGS: Spoilers for a character death late in the first season. If you haven't guessed who I'm talking about yet, don't read this until you get to the end of season one.  
Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – I'm a little less than satisfied with how I ended this one, but I couldn't think of anything more to write. All the stuff about Kinue's life before the series, besides her parents' deaths, is not canon at all and was made up completely by me. Thanks to StormyMonday for beta-reading!

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When Kinue and Saji Crossroad's parents died, Kinue wasn't nearly as old as people thought she was. Fortunately, this allowed her to be in a position to raise her younger brother without anyone questioning the decision.

She made it through college on scholarships and prayers—no time for a job, with a grieving teenage brother at home. She was his mother, his sister, his best friend and his diary, all rolled into one. Juggling his needs with her homework was no picnic, but she managed it, because she'd always been the strong one.

Kinue remembered a time when they were little kids and she was looking at some bugs she'd found under a picnic table and Saji—who should have been just at the age to love bugs and other gross things—started crying when she tried to show them to him. Saji had always cried easily as a boy. Scraped knees, lost toys, just about anything was a reason for him to start sobbing. He was just so sensitive.

Maybe that's why she sheltered him so much. She worked her butt off to send him to that school, but she made sure he never realized. When she spent a year on the crime beat at the paper and woke up from nightmares of corpses, she didn't let herself scream because he'd hear and he'd worry. Heavens, he was good at worrying. It had somehow replaced crying as his default mode.

He got a little better about that after he met Louise. Kinue had mixed feelings about that girl; on one hand, she was pretty sure Saji actually loved her, and she really was good at cheering him up, or, at least, distracting him when he was upset. On the other hand, she didn't like how Louise manipulated Saji, and, well, she was just so annoying sometimes! She was always babbling about her clothes or whining or trying to talk someone into something…Kinue shuddered at the thought that she might have been like that when she was a teenager.

Admittedly, she had been a little flighty, but nowhere near as bad as Louise. She'd been a typical teen girl—a little too aware of boys and clothes—but more serious and studious than most. She hadn't taken any crap, either—she'd flat-out refused to be sucked into high-school drama or jerked around by the jock boys who thought they ruled the school. She hoped there was less of that kind of idiocy at Saji's school.

Once Saji was sixteen, Kinue was finally able to worry a little less about her brother, and focus more on her job. It was a good thing, too, because that was about when the Celestial Being story broke and her investigation of Aeolia Schenberg started.

It was born of pure desperation, because they knew nothing about these people, and nothing is not enough for a journalist. Aeolia Schenberg was their only clue. But, as things progressed, it became more than just a quest for information about Celestial Being, because they got more of that with each armed intervention. No, what she wanted was the missing piece, the "why". She knew that, even if Celestial Being's current members were serious about the whole "ending war by force of arms" idea, Aeolia Schenberg was a genius, and it didn't make sense that he'd originated such a convoluted, impossible plan. Celestial Being was doomed from the start, because a forced peace is no peace at all—it's just another war waiting to happen. At least that's how she saw it. So what was it that Schenberg knew that she didn't? She had to know. She had to understand. The world was being transformed by Celestial Being and people were afraid, because they didn't understand either, and if Kinue could just explain it to them…maybe she'd make their lives just a little bit easier.

She'd never expected to die in the process.


	4. Hurt

Title: Hurt

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Setsuna F. Seiei, Lyle Dylandy, Neil Dylandy  
Summary: This hurts like nothing else Setsuna has ever experienced.

WARNINGS: Angst and spoilers for Setsuna's past, Neil and Lyle Dylandy's pasts, and the season two episode "Anew Returns". Includes spoiler for a major character's death.  
Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – This is an extremely subjective interpretation of this scene, and I don't have a lot of evidence to support it being correct. So, just think of it as speculation. Thanks to StormyMonday for beta-reading!

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There was a part of Setsuna that, despite the completely inappropriate situation, wanted nothing more than to laugh. It was a side-effect of his guerilla training, probably, that he could laugh under such circumstances. But there was something horribly amusing about the sheer irony of this situation, so much so that he nearly did laugh aloud.

Setsuna F. Seiei was a child soldier and a self-made orphan. He was also a Gundam Meister. If you named a traumatic experience, it was likely that he'd experienced it at one point or another. But this particular experience hurt like none of the others had, and it was happening in the middle of his own ship without an enemy in sight.

Bracing himself, he looked up. Lyle Dylandy's face, twisted by grief and anger, swam in front of his eyes as the other Meister drew back his fist to punch Setsuna again.

Setsuna wasn't going to complain. And he wasn't going to fight back. He knew how much Anew had meant to Lyle. In fact, from the moment he took aim at her Gundam, he'd known this would happen. He just hadn't expected it to hurt this much.

Not physically, of course. Lyle was a sniper for a reason-his hand-to-hand combat abilities were average at best. His technique, while not flawed per se, was very basic…and Setsuna was distracting himself with combat analysis again. Even _he _knew that wasn't healthy as a coping mechanism.

What it came down to was this: Lyle looked like Neil, being that he was his twin. Setsuna, despite his best efforts to ignore Neil, had come to look up to the man and missed him greatly. As a result, the experience of being hit repeatedly by a person with the same face as Neil, and having to watch those green eyes fill with hate and know that all of it was directed at him-it was not a pleasant experience.

Lyle was not his brother. Setsuna knew this. He found that this fact did not really make him feel any differently about the situation, not because Lyle meant just as much to Setsuna as Neil had. He didn't. This wasn't Lyle's fault, of course. Neil had been the only thing standing between Setsuna and a mental breakdown for quite a while, and, moreover, he had willingly occupied that position despite Setsuna's brusque refusals of his help. He had been…he had been an older brother to Setsuna. Lyle was a comrade, a friend, and a good, reliable man. He was competent, had a good sense of humor, and Setsuna believed in his abilities as a Gundam Meister. But he didn't mean to Setsuna what Neil had meant to Setsuna.

No, this hurt for a different reason. Setsuna hadn't forgotten what Neil had told him about the bombing that killed his family. For a while, he knew, Neil really had hated him, or at least, the idea of him and the others who were part of Ali Al-Saachez's terrorist cell. At one time, Neil's eyes had held that kind of hatred for him. And even if Neil had forgiven him later on, the time when Neil had hated him still remained.

That was the part that actually hurt.


	5. Meanwhile, in Ireland

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Title: Meanwhile, in Ireland

Author: NinthFeather

Beta: StormyMonday  
Rating: T

Characters: Neil Dylandy, Graham Aker  
Summary: You meet all sorts of people in pubs.

WARNINGS: Smoking, alcohol, gratuitous AU-ness.  
Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – This idea came from a review reply I sent to Laora…somehow, we ended up on the subject of what a meeting between Graham and Neil would be like. So, I wanted to write this. It's set sometime pre-series, I'm not sure exactly when, but after Graham joins the military and before Neil boards Ptolemaios. Graham is both hard and fun to write…I'm not sure how well I got his tone down, but I hope I did okay, because he's honestly my favorite besides the four original Meisters and Saji.

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Graham deserved to visit one of the local bars. There was no crime that he knew of, short of mass murder, perhaps, that warranted the sort of punishment he'd been subjected to that day. Honestly, was the language Billy and the other physicists used even English? Graham was pretty sure it wasn't.

Billy insisted that they couldn't go on vacation in Ireland without visiting the best biotechnology…or maybe nanotechnology…well, whatever it had been a lab for, Billy had insisted it was the best of its kind. And had proceeded to wander through it, speaking scientist-language with its strange, pale inhabitants for hours, with Graham in tow.

Finally, Graham decided to make good use of his extensive stealth training to sneak away from Billy and his utterly boring new friends After all, one never knew when such training would come in handy. After making his escape, Graham wandered the streets of Dublin for nearly a half-hour before finally deciding that a drink would do him a world of good.

Well, he supposed they were called "pubs" here, but Graham didn't honestly care, as long as they served alcohol. He wasn't exactly a big drinker, but he did enjoy an occasional beer, and it was hard to go drinking with Billy dogging his footsteps and muttering things about "depressants" and "liver damage". Graham was a soldier, for heaven's sakes! It was highly unlikely that he'd live long enough to die of something as mundane as liver damage.

Finally, he came upon an eligible-looking place. The sign was too worn for the words to be legible, but the picture on it was definitely a mug of beer.

He walked inside, brow furrowing as the smell of cigarette smoke stung the inside of his nose, and sat down at the bar.

He ordered something with a name he couldn't pronounce off of the menu—bravery was essential for a soldier, after all—and then noticed that the man next to him seemed to have taken specific note of his decidedly American presence.

Graham raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I just wanted to know what a Union soldier is doing in Dublin," the man said casually. He was tall, easily Graham's own height, with curly brown hair that fell nearly to his shoulders and unusually sharp green eyes. A worn brown leather jacket rested comfortably on his shoulders, and there was a cigarette held between the first and middle fingers of his right hand.

Graham had nearly forgotten that he was still wearing his uniform. "I'm on vacation," he said quickly. "This was the only complete outfit I could find in my luggage."

The other man raised an eyebrow. "Not too organized, huh?"

"I guess not," Graham said with a laugh, noting absently that his drink had arrived.

"So, vacation is it?" the man asked. "How come you aren't in one of those 'Authentic Irish' tourist traps?"

"Honestly, I'm just here to escape the scientists," Graham said, taking a drink.

The other man gave him a sideways look. "You in some kind of trouble? I thought it was just the HRL that did that kind of stuff—"

"No, not like that!" Graham said quickly, waving a hand. "My best friend is a scientist, and he wanted to visit that big lab a few blocks from here…I cannot understand every other word they say."

"Sounds fun," the other man deadpanned. "Please tell me that's not the only thing you've done in Ireland so far."

"No, we already visited the Blarney Stone," Graham said. "I tried to kiss it, but Billy said I'd probably catch meningitis and die, and that I already had the gift of blarney, anyway."

"This Billy sounds like a piece of work," the man observed.

"He's my best friend!" Graham said indignantly before taking a drink. "And he's got a point…about the blarney thing, that is. I do tend to be a bit…over dramatic."

"Is that so?" the man asked.

"It's not really that unusual for a man to like Shakespeare, is it?" Graham asked, not realizing he was having a conversation with a man that would eventually become his enemy.

"You quote him before battles," the man said. It was a statement rather than a question.

"Only sometimes!" Graham said defensively. "And not only Shakespeare. There are a number of Japanese writers…"

"You're pretty weird for a soldier," the man said with amusement.

"I am memorable," Graham corrected, trying to retain some dignity.

"You are that," the man agreed. "Hey, the name's Neil."

"Graham. It's nice to meet you."

Just then, the door of the pub slammed open and someone burst through it, silhouetted by the afternoon sunlight.

"Hey, has anyone seen a blond man in a Union uniform walking around? He probably looked either out of it, or drunk—oh, there you are, Graham!"

Neil turned, raising an eyebrow at the sudden commotion. "I'm guessing that's Billy?"

Graham grimaced and nodded as Billy approached them, looking rather murderous. "Yeah..."

"Where have you been?" Billy demanded.

"Uh, here," Graham said, gesturing to the surrounding pub.

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Billy questioned again, his tone clearly reflecting annoyance.

"I didn't want to interrupt your conversation with the weird scientist creat—the other scientists," Graham replied.

Neil snickered, but said nothing. He was more than happy to watch the entertainment provided by the two strangers.

"I'm sorry you were bored," Billy bit out. "But do you really think it's a good idea for you to walk around in uniform in a foreign country?"

"Uh…no?" Graham said, beginning to think he was in trouble.

"That's right," Billy said. "Now, come on. We have tickets for a concert tonight."

Grateful to have faced Billy's wrath and escaped with his life, Graham paid for his drink—even though he'd barely had any of it—and got up to leave.

"Maybe I'll see you around," Neil called to him as he walked out of the door.

"Perhaps," Graham agreed.

He didn't really think about that day much in the future, although, after Operation Fallen Angels, he almost wanted to go back to that pub and see if Neil was still there, just to reassure himself that one thing _hadn't _changed.

If he'd only known, he probably would've appreciated the poetic irony of the whole situation.


	6. Claustrophobia

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Title: Claustrophobia

Author: NinthFeather

Beta: StormyMonday  
Rating: K+

Characters: Allelujah Haptism, Ian Vashti  
Summary: Allelujah spent his first week on Ptolemaios convincing himself that he wasn't trapped on the ship.

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Allelujah's past, the presence of Hallelujah.  
Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – This is set preseries. The first sentence needed to be written. I'm not yet sure why. I'm actually kind of surprised that there isn't more Parental Ian in fan fiction, given that he actually has a kid…oh, well.

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Allelujah spent his first week on Ptolemaios convincing himself that he wasn't trapped on the ship. He spent the second week convincing Hallelujah to stop reminding him that he couldn't exactly leave without dying of oxygen deprivation.

Claustrophobic wasn't the right term. Small spaces didn't bother him in the least…as long as he could leave them. It was being trapped that he was afraid of.

The scientists had trapped him in the institute. And Hallelujah, when he took over, shut Allelujah in a corner of their shared mind, refusing to let him out. Both experiences were equally unpleasant.

Unfortunately, spaceships were rather hard to leave at will. Allelujah was hyper-aware of this fact. And, yes, it bothered him. He flinched every time a set of doors shut behind him.

He wasn't naive enough to think it was a coincidence when, about a week into his time on Ptolemaios, he returned to his quarters to find Ian Vashti working on his door.

"It won't quite shut," the older man explained. "I just can't seem to get it the whole way closed. Is that going to bother you?"

Allelujah shook his head and babbled something about Ian trying later. Ian nodded patiently and went back to working on the Gundams.

Ian knew the door wasn't broken, and Allelujah knew it too, but both of them knew that, for all that he was a Gundam Meister and a super-soldier, Allelujah Haptism was also a man, and there were certain things that had more to do with pride than with honesty.

After a month on the ship, Allelujah's heart rate no longer spiked every time a door slid shut. In a moment of downtime, he quietly asked Ian to try fixing his door again.

It took Ian less than five minutes to get the door to close tightly.

After Ian left, Allelujah walked into the room and heard the doors close behind him, but now being enclosed felt more safe and comfortable than claustrophobic. Even super-soldiers knew the difference between a refuge and a trap.


	7. Arguing with Myself

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Title: Arguing With Myself

Author: NinthFeather

Beta: StormyMonday  
Rating: T

Characters: Allelujah Haptism, Hallelujah Haptism  
Summary: Arguing with yourself is more complicated when there are two personalities in your head.

WARNINGS: Vague spoilers for Allelujah's past, the presence of Hallelujah, moral debate  
Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – I'm taking an ethics class. That should explain this oneshot. Takes place sometime before Episode 11 of Season 1—the one called "Allelujah".

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"I've rechecked this data five times, but there's this voice in the back of my mind that keeps insisting that there's something not quite right about it," Lichty groaned as he scanned the lines of text scrolling across the computer screen.

"Is that so?" Allelujah asked unsympathetically. At least Lichty's voice didn't have its own consciousness.

Well, then again, Hallelujah's single-minded, moral-disregarding drive to ensure their mutual survival probably didn't quite qualify as a consciousness, but it was close enough to give him the ability to act separately from Allelujah.

_What do you mean, I don't have a consciousness?_

Also, it was apparently close enough to give him emotions. They were pretty much limited to annoyance, anger, and sadistic glee, but at least he had them.

_You know, if you keep zoning out like this, he's gonna realize you're crazy._

_I'm _not _crazy, _Allelujah snapped. _You're a result of the quantum brain waves, not a breakdown or something._

_No, you had the breakdown after the quantum brain waves._ Hallelujah said, a mocking note to his unspoken tone.

_Because you borrowed my body and went on a killing spree_.

_So we could get out of the Institute,_ Hallelujah stated soundlessly. _You didn't want to be there, I didn't want to be there, so…I got us out. Why are you complaining?_

_What part of killing spree do you not understand?_ _Those were human—_

_You can't even honestly say that, not for certain, because you don't think you're human anymore_, Hallelujah interrupted. _Besides, I don't really care if they were human. Our survival was more important._

_Who gives you the right to say that?_

_I do. I don't need anyone else's permission to exist. Unlike you, who's always trying to uphold imaginary moral standards and please people. Hah. _

_They're not imaginary!_

_Can you prove that they exist? Not everyone follows them, that's for sure. Even you don't follow them half the time. You say you don't want to kill, but your little armed interventions aren't usually too peaceful._

_I only kill because it's necessary!_

_And who gives you the right to say that?_

"Uh, Allelujah?" Lichty said hesitantly, breaking Allelujah's train of thought. "You still in there?"

"Yeah," Allelujah said, forcing himself to be casual. "I was just arguing with myself."


	8. Attachments

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Title: Attachments

Author: NinthFeather

Beta: StormyMonday  
Rating: K

Characters: Sumeragi Lee Noriega  
Summary: Sumeragi Lee Noriega wasn't anyone's mother.

WARNINGS: Vague spoilers for Sumeragi's past, spoilers for her real name.  
Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – Ms. Sumeragi is an interesting character. I decided to try and have a peek at her psyche.

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Leesa Kujo…Sumeragi Lee Noriega…honestly, she wasn't sure which to call herself anymore, because even though the first one was her birth name, she'd become accustomed to being addressed as "Ms. Sumeragi," by the Ptolemaios's crew…but whichever one she was, what she was not was anyone's mother.

That much should have been fairly obvious to anyone who spent five minutes on Ptolemaios. She was not a role model. She spent half of her time drunk and the other half ordering other people to fight—and yes, there was a relationship between the two. Besides, she wasn't particularly good at taking care of people—especially the prickly, withdrawn types and the so-fake-happy-you'll-never-know-how-anything's-wrong types that seemed to populate Celestial Being.

Sure, she gave the occasional bit of advice, and offered encouragement every once in a while, and it wasn't like she didn't care about the others…but what it boiled down to was that she was not a reliable person, and she knew it. Anyone who relied on her would end up disappointed or dead, and that wasn't what she wanted for her crew or her Meisters.

And if she called them hers, well, that was just because they were. After all, it was her ability in giving them orders that determined whether they would live or die. That was the extent of her responsibility to them and their relationship with her.

Except that she knew very well that it wasn't. She cared about them as more than subordinates, and they cared about her as more than a tactical forecaster.

She wasn't anyone's mother. But she was Neil's friend and confidante, and Feldt Grace's mentor. She was Cristina's co-conspirator in getting Feldt to lighten up, and Tieria's colleague—which seemed to be the closest relationship he'd grant anyone. To Allelujah, she was something of an older sister, to Lichty, she was a source of advice. And Setsuna trusted her, which was something he did not do lightly.

She was nobody's mother. But she did mean something to them, nonetheless. That scared her more than she could say, but it also made her a little happy. More importantly, it was a reality that she was going to have to deal with—after all, the only way to stop them from liking her was hurting them or letting them down, and she wouldn't do that.

She'd become Sumeragi Lee Noriega to run away from her old attachments. It just figured that she'd end up making new ones here.


	9. and then she caught herself

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Title: and then she caught herself

Author: NinthFeather

Beta: StormyMonday  
Rating: K+

Characters: Louise Halevy, Andrei Smirnov, Saji Crossroad

Pairings: Louise/Saji, Louise/Andrei  
Summary: Sometimes, Louise Halevy wanted to tell Andre Smirnov that she returned his feelings.

WARNINGS: Spoilers for the end of season one and the beginning of Season Two-basically, if the name "Andre Smirnov" is not familiar to you, this will spoil things. Also, angst, per usual.

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – Takes place in the beginning of Season 2, after Andre starts basically hitting on Louise (he's not too subtle, is he?). In case you wondered, yes, the Paramore song had a hand in my inspiration here. This isn't actually a songfic, though—I only use a single line from the song, and even that is paraphrased.

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Sometimes, Louise Halevy wanted to tell Andrei Smirnov that she returned his feelings.

She didn't, of course—her heart was too full of hate and revenge to leave room for much else, and what little love she _did_ have still belonged to Saji—but sometimes, she wished she had.

It would be so much simpler. A fresh start, with someone who knew nothing of the cheerful, energetic girl she had been. She didn't have to pretend with him, the way she had needed to pretend with Saji in the hospital. Andre had fallen in love with her after she'd become the broken, worthless, confused excuse for a soldier that she now was.

The fact that he was able to see anything of value in the person she was now was remarkable. He looked past appearances. That was a good thing, in a man-her mother had said so.

But there were all sorts of things that weren't quite right about him. He was too tall. He wasn't a good cook. He didn't let her push him around. He never got nervous. His eyes were steely blue instead of soft brown. He never fell asleep at lunch tables.

In other words, he wasn't Saji. And even if she _knew_ that she'd never see Saji again, that he deserved better than someone like her…she couldn't quite let go.

Sometimes, Louise Halevy wanted to tell Andrei Smirnov that she returned his feelings. But she always caught herself before her lips formed the words.

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	10. System Shutdown

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Title: System Shutdown

Author: NinthFeather

Beta: StormyMonday  
Rating: K+

Characters: Tieria Erde  
Summary: If that's what it meant to have a past, Tieria didn't want one.

WARNINGS: Spoilers for the end of Season 1, mentions of character death, angst.

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – Takes place in the four-year interim between Season One and Season Two. I love Tieria, but he can be really hard to write.

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_"If that man is being corrupted by the thing he calls a past, then he needs to purify himself with his own hands."_

Tieria had said that, once, during the intervention involving the HRL's Super-Soldier Institute. But now…now, he needed to take his own advice.

He hadn't really understood, then, why Allelujah's past was able to affect his actions. In fact, he hadn't really understood the idea of "having a past" until the few tense moments on that island, with Neil's gun pointed at Setsuna's head, had opened his eyes to what a human's past was.

He had always thought of a person's past as nothing more than a single aspect of a human's multifaceted operating systems, a few lines of the code that operated their brains which could easily be isolated and excluded from certain actions.

But a past was not a simple piece of code. It was a virus, a very well-designed virus, one that easily wormed its way into every aspect of their individual programs and could not be dislodged while they were still operating. It could impede or alter any or every process that they engaged in.

As soon as he realized that, he made a decision—if that was what it meant to have a past, he didn't want one. Celestial Being's members already had enough trouble without another person whose past caused malfunctions.

Unfortunately for that plan, Fallen Angels had occurred. And Tieria had been left with this brand-new emotion that Sumeragi referred to as grief.

While he was not sure it constituted a past, per say, it seemed to possess similar destructive capabilities to one. His function was not just impeded, it was all but eliminated. He just wanted to lose himself in Veda and forget everything…but he didn't even have the ability to do that anymore, not with the link to Veda gone.

When he had spoken of Allelujah's past, he had said that his fellow Meister was being "corrupted" by it. "Corroded" might have been a better word, however, because this felt like slow, steady degradation, consuming him from within.

But even if that was true, even if that was how he felt, he had no excuse. Neil had lost people too, and he had gone on living and fighting and being more cheerful, most of the time, than he had any right to be.

Tieria wasn't sure he could achieve the former Lockon Stratos's levels of geniality. But perhaps he could settle for working to regain his ability to function at a normal level.

Yes, if he himself was being corrupted by this thing he called a past, then he, too, would purify himself with his own hands. That was what it meant to be a Gundam Meister.

Tieria suspected that was what it meant to be a human, as well.

_Inconsequential A/N: I would love to see a list of all the things that Gundam characters from all the various time lines have proclaimed to be "the meaning of being a Gundam/Gundam pilot," just because I think it would be a long, diverse, and rather amusing list._


	11. Just Plain Marina

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Title: Just Plain Marina

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Marina Ismail, Setsuna F. Seiei

Pairings: somewhat ambiguous SetsunaMarina  
Summary: Strange how just plain Marina can do more for him than the Princess of Azadistan ever could.

WARNINGS: Spoilers up to early season 2, vague references to Setsuna's past, angst

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
AN – Takes place during Season 2 episode 15, "Victory Song of the Resistance," while Marina is taking care of Setsuna. Because Marina never needed a title, and did better without one. Also, I like the combination of fluff and angst that I can generate with Setsuna and Marina.

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His expression is almost soft when he's asleep. She wouldn't call it happy, really...the corners of his lips are still pointing downward rather than up…but it's a gentle expression, for certain.

Dark eyelashes rest lightly on his cheek, in the shadows of dark, curling hair. His skin is just a bit more tanned than it was four years ago, and the angles of his face are more defined now. He's aged well. And yet…

He told her his story in the same soft, even tone that he'd used every other time they had spoken. His expression had been blank, as if he were relating something interesting that he had heard or perhaps a bit of useful intelligence. Not the story of how his country and his family and his life had been destroyed.

Marina does not hate, or, at least, she tries not to. Everyone is human, everyone deserves a second chance, that's what she's always been told, and what she's come to believe. But she's honestly not sure what she would do if she were to meet this Ali Al-Saachez. The very thought that this man is still alive is abhorrent to her, to a point that frightens her—she did not realize she was capable of despising someone, anyone, to this extent. She is a peaceful woman, or she wants to be one. Is one person's story really all it takes for her to give up on her principles?

And yet, it's not just any story. It's Setsuna's story, the story of a boy who has become important to her in a way that she can't quite define or explain. And that changes everything. No one should have to carry a burden like his, no one, but she especially doesn't want him to be the one to carry it. She wants desperately to be able to take it away from him, or lighten it somehow, but she's still powerless.

Except…she is almost certain that no one else has heard the story he just told her, not in its entirety. Setsuna is a private person, and one who has been taught never to show weakness. Under most circumstances, he wouldn't admit to struggling with his past even at gunpoint. But exhausted and injured, he entrusted his secrets to her. He trusted her in a way he had most likely never trusted anyone. That, by itself, is something meaningful.

He trusted…and he spoke about things that he normally avoided, and for good reason. To face painful memories like that on a regular basis. She's not sure even _he_ has that much strength. But he did need to face them, she knows that. Because if the past cannot be undone, and people cannot forget it, then the only option left to them is to accept it. She thinks, or maybe just hopes that Setsuna moved a bit closer to acceptance today. The fact that she was able to help him to do that is a precious and wonderful accomplishment. Maybe the most meaningful one she's had.

As Princess of Azadistan, she spent countless hours alone in marble halls, feeling useless as the world fell to pieces around her. Here she is a refugee, without official rank or real authority, but she is still a ruler, in a way, of a tiny country of orphans that now includes Setsuna. It is not a glamorous position. It does not come with silken dresses or a grand palace. But it does come with other rewards—the sound of children singing and laughter in a place that is otherwise grim, the smallest hint of a smile on Setsuna's lips…certainly, not jewels or riches, but so much more precious than any currency or treasure ever could be.

It's strange, she thinks, that just by being Marina, the caregiver to a group of war orphans and a friend to a lonely, conflicted boy who was once called Soran, she can accomplish things that mean more than anything the Princess Royal of Azadistan, Marina Ismail, ever could.

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	12. SelfDestruct

Title: Self-Destruct

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Neil Dylandy

Pairings: None  
Summary: Dynames's self-destruct hadn't yet been activated, but Neil Dylandy's had.

WARNINGS: Some vague spoilers for season one, cigarette use (which can boost a movie from a G rating to PG in the US) including some assertions about the health effects of cigarettes that, while medically verifiable, may offend smokers, and rather sizable quantities of angst

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
A/N – Takes place sometime during season one. A slightly darker perspective on Neil's character than usual for me…hope you like it anyway.

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Dynames has a self-destruct button, like any piece of advanced technology that's taken into battle ought to.

Neil remembered when Ian showed it to them, pointing it out very carefully on the schematics of each mobile suit so that none of them would push it unless it was absolutely necessary.

"And by that, I mean unless you're completely out of weapons, injured, and surrounded with no hope whatsoever of support from Ptolemaios or one of the other units," he had said. "These machines cost more than some countries spend in a year. If you blow one up, it'd better be for a dang good reason."

Tieria had scowled through the entire lecture, as if the very idea that he might destroy such a valuable piece of equipment under any circumstances less dire than the Apocalypse was an insult to him—which it probably was. Setsuna's expression turned distant a few minutes in, prompting Neil to wonder once again exactly what sort of things the kid was remembering. Allelujah had listened gravely, and, on reflection, Neil realized he was probably considering the very real possibility that he might need to use the button if he lost control of Hallelujah.

As for Neil, he wasn't much concerned about it. Well, it was useful to know where the button was, and he definitely didn't want to press it by accident, but it wasn't going to prompt some sort of deep introspection about what he would do if he was in a situation where that was his only option.

There wasn't much of a question about it, after all. Dynames's self-destruct hadn't yet been activated, but Neil Dylandy's had.

Specifically, it had been engaged three nights after the terrorist attack that killed his parents, in the alley behind a local convenience store, when, hands trembling half from cold and half from nervousness, he'd lifted a brand-new lighter to the tip of his first cigarette and then inhaled.

No matter what impression he had given his primary school teachers, he had paid attention in class, and he had seen exactly what cigarettes did to your lungs, and your teeth, and your mouth…they even screwed with your brain. But after the attack, he'd figured his brain was screwed up enough that a couple chemical stimulants weren't going to make much of a difference either way, and if his lungs shut down…well, to be honest, he wasn't sure he cared that much.

He'd gotten better, over the years, of course—he'd shrugged off the apathy, for the most part, and stopped the worst of the self-destructive behaviors; he hadn't picked an unwinnable bar fight in years, but never managed to kick the cigarette habit.

Some of it was probably just the nicotine…yeah, it made him feel good, and it calmed him down a heck of a lot faster than deep breaths. But he also had this suspicion that his self-destruct mechanism was still online, so to speak. The fact that he'd joined an armed organization knowing that ticking off pretty much every nation on Earth was _part of the plan_ was a pretty good indicator that something still wasn't quite right in his brain.

If he had really wanted to, he probably could have gotten some nicotine patches, and maybe some smokeless cigarettes or something, and tried to quit, but figured it wasn't worth the effort. It wasn't like he was smoking a pack a day or anything. Besides, he was a mobile suit pilot in an organization with enemies worldwide; if the cigarettes wanted to kill him, they'd have to get in line.

And so, leaning against Dynames's leg, staring up at the South African sky, he pulled his old, scuffed-up lighter out of the left pocket of his jacket, then reached for the last cigarette in the box at the bottom of his other pocket. He lifted the cigarette to his mouth, opened the lighter, and held it up to the cigarette's end. The smoke rose slowly toward the dark blue sky, a few orange sparks flickering within it, and he watched it rise for a few seconds before he breathed in.

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	13. Message

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Title: Message

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Setsuna F. Seiei, Marina Ismail

Pairings: Ambiguous SetsunaMarina  
Summary: She deserved an explanation.

WARNINGS: Spoilers for the end of season 1, angst, and metaphysics (which isn't a bad thing so much as a sensitive topic; Setsuna's views are Setsuna's, mine are mine, yours are yours)  
A/N – Setsuna's thoughts while writing Marina that message before Fallen Angels. You have Hideout Writer, a friend of mine on this site, to thank for this fic—he and I were doing a prompt exchange and one of the prompts he gave me resulted in this mini-oneshot.

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Setsuna's hands hovered over the keyboard, and he tried not to notice that they were trembling slightly.

There was a heavy feeling settled deep in his chest, and he knew that once he pressed the "send" button, it would settle even further. It would probably stay there…it would probably stay there until the moment he died.

It was harder now, facing death, now that he no longer believed in any deity who would welcome him to Paradise after he died. He was dying for a greater purpose, yes, but he would never really know if he achieved it…because he would be gone. There was no doubt that peace was worth the price he was about to pay, but he couldn't help being a little terrified at the thought of just not _being_ anymore.

Maybe that's why he was sending this message to Marina. If anyone on this Earth outside of Celestial Being cared enough to remember a fool like him, it was her. She was something special, he was sure. Living on in her memory…it was so much more than what he deserved. But…he also wanted it, badly. In the end, there wasn't really much tying him to this world. Marina was one of the only people he could truly say he cared for outside of Celestial Being. She was also probably the only person outside of Celestial Being who cared for him.

She deserved this message, this explanation of what was about to happen and why he was choosing this path more than anyone else, because at the moment that he died, he was sure that his memories of her would be some of the last things he saw.

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	14. all for you, all for me

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Title: I'm doing this all for you, I'm doing this all for me

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: K

Characters: Saji Crossroad

Pairings: SajiLouise  
Summary: Sometimes, Saji wondered who exactly he was doing this for.

WARNINGS: spoilers up to partway through Season 2, angst

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
A/N – Not so much a SajiLouise shipping fic as a look at Saji's half of their relationship through season two and his motives during that time. Once again, inspired by a song—this time, it's Egomama by Deco*27—the title is a line from one of the more popular English translations of the song.

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_~I'm doing this all for you, I'm doing this all for me~_

The ring felt cold between the tips of Saji's fingers as he held it in front of his eyes and watched the fluorescent lights gleam on its surface. It was so small, so thin; the only thing connecting the life he had now to the life he had once imagined.

Sometimes, he wondered who he was doing this for, anyways. He kept telling himself that he was trying to rescue Louise from the A-Laws, to save her from the harsh life of a soldier. But, deep down, he wondered whether that was really the reason why he chased after her so desperately.

When the war had finally touched his life, it had ripped away his innocence, along with everyone he cared about. His sister, his girlfriend, even his reclusive neighbor, he lost them all to the conflict that had supposedly brought about an era of peace. And now, four years later, everything he'd believed about those losses was being turned on its head. His maladjusted neighbor was not a recluse but a soldier of Celestial Being, who were not the nefarious villains he had imagined them to be and weren't even responsible for half of what he had blamed them for. He was a fugitive from the A-Laws, now, and he was the one responsible for the massacre of a Katharon base, and now, he had even helped pilot one of the Gundams.

He was so thoroughly tangled in the war and conflict he detested that he had no idea how he would even go about escaping. And it was the same way for Louise—she was a member of the A-Laws now, as thoroughly trapped by the conflict as he was.

But under all the grief and anger, she was still Louise. And he was still Saji—he had changed a lot, but he had to believe that there were some parts of himself that had remained the same. And maybe, if he could find her, and they could be together, even for a little bit, maybe they would be able to return to the way they were.

It was a ridiculously naïve thought, he knew that. Too much had happened, too much had changed. But he wanted it so badly to be possible…he wanted those days back so desperately that it hurt. To wake up at a lunch table to find Louise scolding him for sleeping…to open a door and see her on the other side waiting impatiently for him to come shopping with her…to watch her nodding off in the middle of class…to have just _one_ of the experiences he had once considered "ordinary" back, he would've done anything.

He wanted to see Louise again, and he wanted a normal life, and sometimes those two desires got so tangled up in one another that he was no longer sure which one was driving him.

Was he trying to reach Louise for her sake, or for his own? Sometimes, he just wasn't sure.

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	15. Nursemaid

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Title: Nursemaid

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Billy Katagiri, Leesa Kujo/Sumeragi Lee Noriega, Graham Aker

Pairings: Ambiguous BillyLeesa  
Summary: Billy Katagiri had never really expected that his primary societal function would end up being that of a nursemaid.

WARNINGS: Spoilers up to the beginning of season 2, angst, mentions of alcohol use

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.

A/N: Yes, I realize that this entire oneshot is an insult to Billy's masculinity. Unfortunately, what with that ponytail of his, I don't believe he has much left to insult.

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Billy Katagiri was familiar with the various permutations of the quote regarding mice, men and their best-laid plans. That said, he'd never really applied any of them to himself until now.

To put it more succinctly, he had never really expected that, despite all the time he'd spent on science and engineering classes, his primary societal function would end up being that of a nursemaid.

It hadn't been so bad when it was Graham. Well, perhaps that was simply the passage of time taking the edges off of his memories, but he didn't really think so. To be fair, Graham had been an utter trial at times—particularly when he had ingested caffeine or received a new mobile suit. He was loud, over dramatic, and his ability to think logically seemed to appear and disappear at random. Also, his various impassioned declarations regarding both his mobile suits and his comrades had convinced the largest part of the Union forces that he was insane, and caused many of them to additionally postulate that his and Billy's relationship was somewhat more than professional.

That had all been rather annoying, but Graham had possessed a number of redeeming qualities as well, and so, Billy had put up with him. And, when, after Fallen Angels, Graham had decided to shove him and everyone else away with all the subtlety of a beam cannon, Billy respected his wishes and given him some space.

Naturally, that had been when Leesa Kujo had quite literally landed on his doorstep. That is to say that she passed out, drunk, in front of his door.

He had feelings for her, there was no denying that, but watching her try to drink herself into an early grave did not exactly strengthen his affection for her. If anything, seeing her like this repulsed him. He wanted to get her help, but she wouldn't go to Alcoholics Anonymous, and whenever he forced her into a therapists' office, she shut down like a prisoner facing interrogation.

He tried to get rid of all the alcohol, but when he did that, she would just "borrow" his money and buy more. She'd barely spent five minutes sober for the first year after she arrived, and even after that, she never spent more than a few days without a drink. If she kept this up, she would die, but if she wouldn't accept help…well, he couldn't leave her alone when she was like this. So, he let her stay.

They weren't in a relationship; she wasn't ready for one. She was barely conscious enough for one most of the time. Graham would have laughed at him for it...he had a beautiful woman living in his apartment, but they weren't doing anything at all. Still, that was probably a good thing—Leesa was anything but stable and a relationship probably would've hurt both of them in the end.

She wouldn't tell him what had happened, beyond the fact that she'd been at Fallen Angels. He knew it hadn't been pretty, though. He heard her, sometimes, late at night, sobbing and managing to slur out "I'm sorry," in between tall whiskey shots.

He caught a few names, sometimes. "Lockon," "Christina," "Allelujah," and "Lichty"—he didn't recognize any of them, but the people who had borne them must have meant something to Leesa at some point. He didn't know what had happened to them…he didn't know anything, really, except that whatever had happened had been enough to break Leesa.

He wasn't sure if he still loved her…how could you have romantic feelings a person who, by her own choice, wasn't usually even conscious enough to know where she was or who you were? But he did still care about her, so he couldn't give up on her.

He would have never guessed that his primary societal function would have been that of a nursemaid. And yet, he had never been able to abandon Graham, and he certainly couldn't turn his back on Leesa.

Well, if he was suited to the job, perhaps it was just as well that he was the one performing it.

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	16. What You Don't Have

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Title: What You Don't Have

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: K+

Characters: Lyle Dylandy, Saji Crossroad, Allelujah Haptism, Setsuna F. Seiei

Pairings: None

Summary: "Hey, you're not the only one who's lost people, ya know," Lyle said, a bit more harshly than he'd intended.

WARNINGS: spoilers up to partway through Season 2, angst

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.

A/N – Yes, I'm finally writing something from Lyle's point of view. Honestly, he's not my favorite character ever, but I felt like he and Saji had a good dynamic in this particular fic. So, yeah, second-season Meister-bonding! Tieria didn't want to participate, though…still, I think this turned out cute. It's set after they rescue Allelujah, but before Marie comes on board Ptolemaios.

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"Okay, Dad, I'll be sure to send it to you when I'm done!" Milena chirped.

She smiled brilliantly at her father, who grinned back and ruffled her hair. She giggled, then headed off to her next task, with Ian watching her go, a fond expression on his face. Beside him, Saji Crossroad examined the Haro in his hands with great interest.

Lyle, watching them as he leaned against the wall of the hallway, could keep a twinge of jealousy off of his face, but not out of his thoughts. He'd dealt with the loss of his parents and sister much better than Neil had, but had always felt their absence more keenly when surrounded by other people's happy families. It was part of why he'd joined Katharon—most of its members had lost their families too, whether to A-Law prisons or to death. And there had always been an unspoken rule: you didn't talk about what you didn't have.

"Well, I'll see you two later," Ian said. "I haven't had time to eat for so long that I think my stomach's forgotten what being full is like. Saji, make sure that those repairs we talked about get done."

"Yessir," Saji said, straightening.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt you to loosen up a bit," Ian said.

Saji shrugged. "Have a nice meal, Mr. Vashti."

Ian rolled his eyes, and then headed in the direction of the kitchen. As the man left, Saji let out a soft sigh and slumped against the wall. There was a look in his eyes, mournful and tired and a little lost…it was a little too familiar for Lyle's tastes.

"What's eating you, kid?" he asked, feigning casualness.

Saji looked up, startled. "Ah, Mr. Stratos, I didn't see you there!"

"You can call me Lockon," Lyle said patiently. "But seriously, what's wrong?"

"Uh, it's…that is…" Saji fumbled for words. "It's nothing anyone needs to worry about."

"Uh-huh," Lyle said, saturating the two syllables with as much disbelief as he could.

"Look, I just don't like watching them," Saji muttered, glowering down at the Haro in his hands. "It makes me miss things I should already be used to not having."

Lyle winced, and, without thinking, said, "You too?"

Saji blinked up at him.

"Hey, you're not the only one who's lost people, ya know," Lyle said, a bit more harshly than he'd intended.

"Sorry," Saji said quickly. "The others mentioned that the other Lockon was—"

"My brother, yes," Lyle said. "But my parents and sister—" he broke off. "Well, enough about me. Who are you missing?"

"My sister," Saji admitted. "My parents died when I was younger; I still miss them, but…Kinue was always there at home, waiting for me…"

"Guess we're both orphans, then," Lyle said.

"What are you guys talking about?" Allelujah asked, coming to a stop a few feet from them, with Setsuna close behind him. "We didn't mean to eavesdrop, we were just on our way to eat and…"

"Orphans," Lyle said. He saw Saji flinch, and regretted his bluntness. But only a little bit.

"Huh…" Allelujah said. "I wonder…"

"Wonder what?" Saji asked.

"I don't remember my parents," Allelujah explained. "I…wasn't raised by them. Actually, I don't even know their names. For all I know, they are dead."

Lyle had to make an effort not to stare. It was no secret that the Arios Gundam's Meister was a super-soldier, but Lyle didn't really know much about what had gone on inside of the HRL's Super-Soldier Institute before a Gundam blew it up—wait, hadn't that Gundam been the orange one too? Between that and four years in an A-Law prison, it was no wonder that Allelujah was kind of messed up. Actually, it was a miracle that the man was still functioning at all.

"Wouldn't their last name be the same as yours?" Saji asked. "Maybe…after the war, that is…maybe you could look for them."

"My last name was given to me by Celestial Being," Allelujah said, almost gently.

"Oh," Saji said, very quietly.

Lyle grimaced. Saji had been living a pretty normal life up until he joined Celestial Being, from what he had said, so he probably wasn't used to hearing crap like this. It sort of killed your ability to feel self-pity when you discovered the guy you'd been eating lunch with for weeks had all but gone through perdition up to this point and that compared to his, your relatively crappy life was freakin' peaceful.

"So, what about you, Setsuna?" Lyle asked, almost conversationally. Changing the subject seemed like a good idea.

The younger man gave him a look that would have frightened seasoned mercenaries into running. Fortunately, Lyle was a seasoned rebel, and just a little bit crazy to boot, so he didn't scare that easily.

"C'mon," he prompted.

"My parents are dead," Setsuna said flatly, with that same terrifying look on his face. On closer examination, it seemed to be made up of as much self-loathing as anger.

Based on that, Lyle was pretty sure at this point that whatever story Setsuna didn't want to tell was at least as bad as Allelujah's, so he let it drop.

"Well, this is depressing," Lyle said at length. _And awkward, _he added mentally. His brother had hung out with some really messed-up people. But Lyle still kind of liked them…that probably made him just as crazy as Neil had been.

"Hey, uh, you want to come get something to eat with us?" Allelujah offered. "There's a table in the kitchen that's the right size for four people…"

"I don't know, I still have some repairs to do—" Saji started.

"I'm sure whatever it is can wait," Lyle said.

To his surprise, Setsuna nodded in agreement.

"Okay, then, I guess…" Saji said.

"What kind of food is still left, anyhow?" Lyle asked.

"Mostly soup," Setsuna said.

"Geez," Lyle said. "What about solid food?"

"We're in space," Allelujah reminded him.

Lyle let himself get drawn into the trivial conversation, drowning out his more brooding thoughts with complaints about food. The conversation was a lot less lively than most he'd had with other members of Katharon, but still nice. And he had a feeling that the food was going to taste a little bit better today, if only because he wasn't eating it alone.


	17. Cell

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Title: Cell

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Allelujah Haptism,

Pairings: None  
Summary: Allelujah wakes up in his cell after Fallen Angels.

WARNINGS: angst, horror, spoilers for the end of season one

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
A/N – Writing this freaked me out. Poor Allelujah.

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He couldn't see anything. Not the faintest trace of light or the slightest gradient of shadow. Maybe that head injury had damaged his visual cortex...although he wasn't sure exactly how he'd gotten a head injury; that part was still blurry and indistinct in his memory.

There! In the corner, he saw it, an area of shadows that was just a little more black than the area around him.

He knew he was sitting. The room was cold, and the chair-metal, it felt smooth like metal—was colder, but at least he didn't have to stand. And he couldn't hear anyone else's breathing but his own. Still, the soft echoes of his gasping breaths were slightly unnerving, and it was still really, really dark.

He ached, especially because there was something holding his arms to his chest…oh, no. It was a straightjacket. He was in a straightjacket.

The memories of Fallen Angels were clearer now. He'd been injured and captured, and, apparently, brought here. Wherever here was. But wherever here was, it was a place he couldn't leave. Because he was in a straightjacket. And, come to think of it, he could feel something cold against his legs, through the flimsy material the pants he was wearing were made of. He tried moving a leg. They had his legs cuffed to the chair he was in.

And that weight, the one over his mouth…some sort of mask…what the heck did they think he was going to do, bite someone? But he couldn't move his arms to remove it.

It was like the Institute all over again. He couldn't leave, couldn't escape, they were going to hurt him…

He started panicking, murmuring incoherent prayers under his breath as he tried not to hyperventilate and failed. Defeated, he waited for Hallelujah to seize control.

Except that he didn't. He didn't even speak up to comment on Allelujah's weakness. It was as if he was gone.

And then, Allelujah remembered Hallelujah saying things that sounded like dying words. Somehow, that injury had…oh no.

Bound and shackled in a dark room, alone in his head for the first time in years, Allelujah Haptism screamed.

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	18. Illusive Memory

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Title: Illusive Memory

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: Allelujah Haptism,

Pairings: None  
Summary: "Sometimes, he thought he could remember his parents."

WARNINGS: angst, spoilers for early Season 2

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.

A/N – See end of fic.

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Sometimes, he thought he could remember his parents.

When he tried to remember them, he could feel a large, warm hand wrapped around his own. The sound of language he couldn't remember how to understand buzzed in his ears, and he could taste the dust in the wind.

He could almost call up the image of a thin, brown wrist emerging from a loose cotton sleeve, or of a flash of gentleness that shone in dark eyes. The smell of cheap, over-scented soap tingled in his nose. Sometimes, he could almost picture faces.

And then, he'd realize that the warm hand had Lockon's calluses, and the unknown language was one he'd heard on a recent intervention, to a country where the breeze tasted of dust. He'd realize that the thin, brown wrist looked a little too much like Setsuna's, and the dark eyes were Ian's, set in a more appropriately-colored face. The cheap soap, he'd smelled on a trip to Earth a few months back. And the faces were never more than muddy, blurred outlines with his own basic features, all the blanks left empty because he had no real memories to fill them.

There was nothing. He couldn't remember anything of them, not even their names, no matter how much his mind managed to build from odds and ends.

He wondered about them, though. Whether his mother was kind, or strict, or both; whether his father would approve of his actions or think he'd taken the wrong path.

He thought his mother might be someone like Marina Ismail—calm, peaceful, and beautiful, untouched by the chaos around her—but with the air of experience that Ms. Sumeragi had when she was sober.

His father, he thought, was probably like Ian Vashti, tough, smart, dependable and a little grizzled, but still a doting father and husband.

He liked to imagine that they had other children who hadn't been taken by the Super Soldier Institute. Younger ones, still innocent and playful, who would keep his parents busy and stop them from missing their lost son.

…if they even missed him. Maybe they didn't. It was possible that he'd been a difficult child, or a foolish one.

Or maybe the circumstances had been such that they couldn't afford another child? A lot of people in the world were poor and starving; maybe his parents had been in that situation too. Losing a mouth to feed would have been a blessing, in that case. Maybe they even let the Super Soldier Institute take him. He couldn't remember the circumstances; for all he knew, he'd been offered up willingly.

But he didn't want to believe that. Because, despite all his sins, all of the murders that he'd committed, he was horrified by the idea of giving up a child of his—even though he didn't have any and didn't even know if super soldiers could have any—to anyone while he still lived. He wanted to believe that his parents felt the same way. He wanted to believe that he was missed.

Since he was probably never going to find out, either way, he figured that he could allow himself that much.

A/ N: _Fabricated memories aren't uncommon even for those of us who aren't as incredibly messed up as Alle. If your parents or guardians have told you a certain story about your very young childhood over and over again, you can probably 'remember' it in a sort of fragmented fashion. This is because your subconscious has constructed it out of other memories. You know it happened, and that you 'should' remember it, so your brain makes it so you 'do' remember it—even though the memory isn't actually of the event, it's still probably pretty accurate if the story it's based on is detailed enough. The same thing might happen if you have a relative you've only met once or haven't met at all, but have heard lots of stories about—despite not really remembering them, you'll have a sort of foggy mental image of them compiled from memories of others who look somewhat like how you imagine the person. _


	19. Ordinary World

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Title: Ordinary World

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: G

Characters: Kinue Crossroad, Saji Crossroad, Louise Halevy

Pairings: Mention of Saji/Louise  
Summary: A day in the life of Kinue Crossroad.

WARNINGS: None. Set pre-series.

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
A/N – Sort of experimenting with writing style here. I tried to express the hectic nature of Kinue's life and also the comfortable predictability of it. Did I succeed?

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Kinue wakes up at six, while Saji is still asleep, and gulps down coffee and a bagel in her car on the way to the office.

The moment she gets there she's on the computer, checking her email and various social media sites for potential stories. By the time she's got a short list, it's eight o'clock and the editorial meeting is starting.

Ideas fly in rapid volleys across the conference table, each reporter defending their own and trying to eliminate the others they dislike. From the fray, eventually, something like the outline of a paper emerges.

Kinue leaves the meeting buzzing with triumph because one of the stories she put forward is getting in, and the elation lasts all of five minutes until she realizes how many interviews she's going to have to do to put the story together.

She dials the first number while she's sliding into her desk chair, and waits for the computer to wake up as she listens to ring after ring and draws spirals in the margins of her notepad. The first person she interviews is great, the second doesn't answer, the third has a recorded message on their phone about their four-week trip to the Bahamas, and the fourth is reading off of the press release she already has.

She types up the interview transcripts between bites of lunch—her little brother makes the best bentou—and checks the internet again for updates. There's nothing, so she reads a few articles online before coming back to the quotes and starting to sort them into something like a story.

She sends the first draft out at two, then starts on another assignment. Her editor sends it back at four with a boatload of suggested changes. She manages to finish all of them before running out the door and promptly getting stuck at traffic.

When she gets home, Saji is just putting a pan of stir-fry onto plates, while Louise inspects the finished product and complains about all the weird vegetables Japanese people eat.

She takes a deep breath, and leaves all of the stress of the day beside the door with her shoes.

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	20. Sleepless

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Title: Sleepless

Author: NinthFeather  
Rating: T

Characters: You'll find out.

Pairings: None  
Summary: The coolness of night air shocked him, waking him from the hazy half-sleep of drifting through bad memories.

WARNINGS: angst, past psychological trauma, memories of violence/blood

Disclaimer: Unless having a plushie replica of Exia counts, I do not own.  
A/N – Takes place sometime after "Indiscriminate Retribution."

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The suffocating grip of dreams of acrid smoke, and keening screams finally loosened, hours before the sun rose, and he stumbled out of his apartment, hoping to find some sort of peace in the ordered rhythm of his own heavy footsteps.

The hallways were clean, modern and metallic, and he kept imagining them twisted and stained red within curtains of smoke. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, even as he pressed the button for the elevator.

It was so small. How had he never noticed how small it was? If anyone ever thought to put a bomb in it, there wouldn't even be pieces of the riders to find. It felt like a death trap.

Finally, he made it out, out of the elevator, out of the hallway, out of the building. The coolness of night air shocked him, waking him from the hazy half-sleep of drifting through bad memories.

He looked up, and saw stars, faint above city lights, but there nonetheless. They were still there. And he was still here. That hadn't changed.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipped it open, and scrolled through the contacts, warmed somehow by the faint light it gave off.

For a second, he thought about calling Louise, but decided against it. They'd seen the bus explode only days ago; a late-night call would make her worry.

He could have died. They both could have died. But they hadn't. And he was sure the nightmares would fade. He would be able to hold on to his own everyday life, even as the world fell to pieces around him.

He didn't really care what happened to the world, anyway. Kinue and Louise were his world, his own bright spots in a sky too dark and vast for him to comprehend…and, his sleeplessness was scrambling his thoughts a little. Louise always said that late nights made him goofy…

Sighing, softly, he walked back into the apartment building, hoping that he'd manage to get back to sleep before his alarm clock went off.

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End file.
